


Cup of Sugar

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: A/B/O, Alpha!Steve, M/M, Omega!Bucky, jack thompson; asshole extraordinaire, minimal pining, modern!Bucky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-17 05:27:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5855941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing about living next door to Captain America was that Steve genuinely cared about Bucky. So when he comes over during Bucky's heat with an offer that makes Bucky want to whine and present himself, well. What could go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy this!! Please leave suggestions and headcanons, they are what I thrive on!
> 
> 'A Thaisce'- my treasure  
> 'A Rún'- my love  
> (Both Irish Gaelic)

Bucky stumbled up the steps to his apartment and fell against the door, slumping as he turned the deadbolt. He pulled out his phone and shot off a text to his manager, letting her know he couldn't make his shifts for the next week or so. She would understand. Bucky groaned and let himself fall to the floor completely. He’d get up in a minute, he just… Needed… To rest. After about fifteen minutes, he pried his sorry carcass off the floor and headed to the kitchen, microwaving a cup-a-soup and adjusting the pin in his left sleeve before retreating to the nest he’d made in his closet. He _didn't_ cry. It was just… He was on his heat and the thing about living next door to Captain America was that Steve genuinely _cared_ about Bucky. Pair that with how good Steve smelled lately and Bucky was white-knuckling to stop from going next door and throwing himself on him. Steve was so _nice_ , was all, and Bucky knew _he’d be so gentle_ … He bit his lip and palmed himself through his jeans. His phone vibrated, and he considered ignoring it until he got another two texts in quick succession. He huffed and picked it up, assuming it was his manager. Just his luck that it wasn't.

> _10:24 am_
> 
> **SGR:** _Buck, do u need  
>  anything?_   
>  **SGR:** _I can get Sam to  
>  drop off whatever you need  
>  just lemme kno_   
>  **SGR:** _Sorry_   
>  _Just wanna make sure ur ok_
> 
> **JBB:** _don't apologize  
>  Sorry just… U kno_
> 
> **SGR:** _ok. Like I said if  
>  there’s anything you need_   
>  **SGR:** _anything_

Bucky groaned and threw his head back against the paper-thin wall that separated him from Steve’s apartment, knowing full well that the alpha was right on the other side of it. It was what Bucky did whenever Steve was in rut. Made sense Steve would do the same for Bucky’s heats. There was a soft tap from the other side, somehow comforting. Bucky whined pathetically and wrapped himself tighter in his blankets.

> **SGR:** _I know, Buck. I’m so sorry._

*  
*   *

Steve pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes and rubbed, trying to distract himself from the scent. When he’d agreed to move to DC two years ago to keep a closer eye on Peggy, well… He hadn't gambled on the omega next door being so goddamned attractive. Since then, they’d been dancing around each other, both knowing the other was interested but being too scared to act. Now, Steve paced toward the door, turning on his heel before he could throw himself to his knees outside Bucky’s door. Honestly, he was surprising himself with how well he was coping. He hadn't begged _once_ yet, nor had he cried. He had, while he was on his last rut. He’d locked himself in his closet and not come out till it was over, and the whole time, he could hear and smell Bucky coming and going from what Steve could only assume was a nest he’d built on the other side of the wall. Steve had sobbed, and Bucky had tapped softly on the wall to him in Morse, knowing he’d understand. _It’s okay_ , the omega had assured him. _I’m here_. Steve grit his teeth and went for a shower.

*  
*   *

> _4:29 pm_
> 
> **JBB:** _Stevie_
> 
> **SGR:** _What is it, Buck,  
>  what do you need?_

Bucky slouched back against the corner of his nest and whined. Steve _had_ to fuckin’ know what Bucky wanted. At this point in his heat there was nothing else Bucky could think of than the heavy scent of alpha permeating the thin walls of his apartment. Well. Except the dick attached to said alpha.

> **JBB:** _gee steve what do u  
>  think_   
>  **JBB:** _fuck u smell so good  
>  Stevie_   
>  **JBB:** _want u so bad_
> 
> _5:00 pm_
> 
> **JBB:** _been wantin u since_   
>  _I met u n that was_   
>  _be4 I knew how_   
>  _fuckin sweet u r_
> 
> **SGR:** _Buck, ur not thinkin  
>  straight _   
>  **SGR:** _we’ll talk when it’s over_
> 
> **JBB:** _Stevie im dyin here_   
>  **JBB:** _just want u to hold me  
>  u don't even have to fuck me_
> 
> _5:15 pm_
> 
> **JBB:** _please doll_

Bucky knew it was a low blow, using a pet name when he knew for a fact Steve had a weakness for them. He also knew that he was a liar and a cheat. And that Steve would never in a million years fall for it. That didn't mean the next text didn't hurt.

> **SGR:** _I know, baby, I know._  
>  J _ust hang on and be a good, strong boy for me, please_  
>  _I want u too, want u so bad_  
>  _ur scent’s got me in rut_  
>  _but we gotta b patient and wait._  
>  _Ur doin so good, Buck._  
>  _I’m proud of u._
> 
> **JBB:** _Stevie_

Bucky’s mouth watered as Steve produced an ever-stronger wave of pheromones. He tapped on the wall, and Steve tapped back twice in response.

> **SGR:** _You’re gonna be ok,_  
>  _baby. Gonna keep u safe.  
>  Promise_.

*  
*   *

> _12:23 am_
> 
> **JBB:** _so wet for u Stevie_  
>  **JBB:** _could just split me open  
>  nice and wide if u wanted_  
>  **JBB:** _that's what it is tho  
>  u don't want me  
>  ‘m not pretty enough_  
>  **JBB:** _ur so pretty Stevie_  
>  _never saw nobody as pretty as u_
> 
> _12:52 am_
> 
> **JBB:** _it’s ok Stevie don't_  
>  _feel bad. Fuckin one-armed_  
>  _omega with PTSD & a shit job as a_  
>  _Starbucks barista. Nobody_  
>  _wants that._

*  
*   *

Bucky woke the next morning to a soft, almost shy knock at his door. He answered it, only to find Steve, soaked in sweat and with the worst case of bedhead outside of Bucky’s own hair right now. He was wearing dark-wash jeans and a hoodie that Bucky would be stealing promptly.  
“May I come in?” Steve asked. His voice was strained. So was the fly of his jeans. Bucky stood aside and waved him in, but Steve didn't budge. “Need you to say it, Buck,” he explained. God, his voice was rough.  
“Steve, if you don't get your ass in here I’ll cut your dick off,” Bucky threatened. Steve smiled as he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him before cradling Bucky’s jaw in both his hands.  
“There you are, that sounded more like my baby,” he encouraged, rewarding Bucky with a kiss. Bucky moaned loud and pressed himself against the alpha’s chest, feeling his scent glands swell. “Buck,” Steve murmured after a minute, “please don't say things like you did last night. You’re so goddamned beautiful I’ve been goin’ crazy. I just- I didn't want to take advantage of you, sweetheart. I’m here now. I’ve gotcha.” Bucky nuzzled up against Steve’s throat, filling his lungs with his scent.  
“Thank you, Stevie,” he murmured.  
“Can we sit? I wanna hold you, baby, but honestly I feel like ‘m gonna fall over right now,” Steve admitted. Bucky nodded and pulled him into his bedroom so they could lie down together.

“Hope you don’t think it forward of me,” Bucky apologized as he settled with his head on Steve’s chest and a blanket around them, “but honestly I’m surprised I didn't throw myself at you during your last rut. Oh, and… Thanks for scaring off those guys yesterday.” There had been alphas sniffing around the hallway. Bucky had been scared. Steve stroked back Bucky’s long, dark hair to look at him.  
“Couldn't let nobody hurt my best guy, could I? ‘M just sorry I didn't work up the courage to talk to you about this sooner,” Steve admitted. “‘Ve wanted to mate you for months.” Bucky smiled and snuggled closer. He could already feel his muscles relaxing, just from Steve’s presence. Imagine if they actually got around to _fucking._  
“‘S okay, Stevie. Just needed you here. Feels nice. Feels… Right.” Steve hummed his agreement and kissed the top of Bucky’s head.  
“I brought you a bunch of sweaters for your nest, if you want them,” Steve offered. He felt Bucky’s brow wrinkle in confusion.  
“Where? Weren't carryin’ nothin’,” the omega asked. Steve chuckled.  
“‘M wearing them,” he explained. “Wanted the scent to be fresh.” Bucky sat up a little and poked him in the chest.  
“ _Thought_ you were squishier than usual. Wasn't gonna say nothin’.” Steve snorted and sat up, peeling off all four of his shirts at once. And wow, Bucky was really warming up to the idea of Steve being his Alpha… He reached out and touched one of Steve’s pecs reverently. “Cut from marble…” He murmured. And Steve had this kinda smirk on his face that made Bucky wanna wipe it off. So he did. Steve leaned heavily into the kiss, sucking Bucky’s lip into his mouth. Bucky moaned and let Steve lead, giving little kitten licks or nipping him lightly to show his appreciation.

“Mmm… Babydoll, I… Want you so bad, Buck… So sweet… So good to me…” Steve was whispering between kisses. Bucky bore his hips down over Steve’s.  
“Yeah, doll? You want this sweet little ass? Drippin’ for you, Stevie, all for you…” he taunted. Steve’s head tipped back and he moaned softly.  
“Yeah, Buck. Want’chu so bad, baby…” he replied. “Wanna claim you, Buck. Don't wanna let anyone else get you. Just for me, from now on.” Bucky groaned and rolled his hips down harder. “My precious sweetheart,” Steve crooned, _“A Thaisce.”_ Bucky gripped Steve’s shoulders and ground down as he came. Steve blinked up at him in awe until Bucky slumped down against Steve’s shoulder.  
“Stevie,” he whined, “please, baby, I need you. Make me yours...” Steve smiled and touched Bucky’s lip with his thumb.  
“Didn’t come here for a quick fuck, Barnes,” he murmured. “Came here to propose. Marry me, Bucky.” Bucky blinked and sat back on Steve’s thighs.  
“Steve…” He trailed off. “Do you mean it? You’re not gonna change your mind later and want a divorce? Because that would ruin me, Stevie.” Steve smiled up sadly at him.  
“‘Course I mean it, baby. Look… I want to do a handfasting, just to make sure you know what you’re getting into, and as soon as that year is up, if you still want me, I’ll buy you a permanent collar. As is, I have one in my apartment that I bought you… Probably longer ago than I’d care to admit. Wanted to discuss it first before I brought it over.” Bucky settled back down against him, his head laid softly on his chest.  
“Of course you’d be a gentleman about it. Yes, of course, doll. Long as you stay with me now.” He could feel Steve smile against his hair.  
“Of course, _A Thaisce._ I’ll stay as long as you want me.”

*  
*   *

Bucky showed up to work the following Tuesday with a collar at his throat. He and Steve had been married in a city hall ceremony on Sunday, after Steve had dragged Bucky’s Jewish ass to Catholic Mass (he didn't want to leave Bucky for a minute, which frankly Bucky found adorable). At work, Bucky’s manager, Angie, had raised an eyebrow but said nothing, and his coworkers were similarly respectful. Everything was going fine. Until Jack Thompson, the regular who seemed to know Bucky’s every shift, came in at the slowest part of the day.  
“What’s with the leather, sweetheart?” He asked. Bucky tried to ignore him and went on making his ridiculously complicated order. “Oh, come on, you too good for me? I asked you a question, Bronco.” Bucky ground his teeth and sneered a smile at him.  
“Have a good day, sir,” he grit out, handing the guy his coffee. But Jack grabbed his wrist.  
“Hey. I’m talkin’ to you. What’s with the leather?” Bucky rolled his eyes.  
“What does it look like? I’m married!” He exclaimed, exasperated. “Let go of me,” he growled when he realized what was happening. “Sir, let go of me _now.”_  
“You know, I don't _see_ a _claim,”_ Jack continued. “Almost looks to me like you’re just tryin’ to make everyone _think_ someone would want you. But you know the truth, don’t you? You know how fucked up anyone would have to be to want you.” Bucky was seriously regretting the lack of a left arm right now.  
“Angie!” He shouted. Jack gripped momentarily tighter, forming welts that Steve would cry over later, before releasing his arm and shoving away and out the door, throwing the coffee out on his way. Angie appeared a second later and Bucky pointed out the door. “Don’t let him back in,” he begged.  
“Bucky, what happened?” She asked, eyeing his wrist. He held it up for her to look at.  
“He was also talkin’ shit about me for my disability,” Bucky explained. Angie nodded.  
“I’ll let everyone know not to let that jerk back in. You get home, let your partner worry over you, okay? You don't do that enough.” Bucky smiled tiredly at her.  
“Thanks, Angie. You’re a peach. Should I tell Steve you said hi?” He asked. Her eyes bugged out.  
“So it is him! Oh, Buck, that’s great news, honey! Yeah, tell him I said I’ll kill him if he hurts you.” Bucky nodded dutifully.  
“Yes, ma’am,” he promised with a salute. Angie grinned and rolled her eyes.  
“Go home. Get some more rest.” So he did. At least the ‘home’ part.

*

He was right about Steve fussing over him. When the alpha saw Bucky’s bruises, he cradled his wrist to his chest so gently Bucky thought he would cry.  
“I’m so sorry, Buck,” he murmured, sounding utterly heartbroken. “I should've taken more care to make sure I scented you this morning. Baby, I’m so sorry, I love you so much.” He pressed a kiss to each of the bruises before scooping Bucky up in his arms and carrying him over to their bed, lying down and settling Bucky on his chest. Bucky smiled down at him and touched his face gently.  
“You didn't do anything wrong, Stevie,” he promised. “He’s just an asshole. He’s been hitting on me for months. I dunno what caught his eye, but…” Steve kissed his throat above the collar.  
“I do. You’re the sweetest, Buck. And so pretty. Got no idea how bad I’ve wanted you.” Bucky whined.  
“Stevie,” he breathed, “please claim me. I know what I want, and I want you. I know you’re set on this whole handfasting thing, but I-” he was cut off by Steve flipping them suddenly, keeping Bucky pinned by his throat. Bucky whined pathetically and nuzzled the hand Steve had cradling his cheek.  
“I love you, Bucky,” Steve murmured, completely at odds with the rough treatment he was giving him. “Do you want me to make love to you?” He asked, releasing his grip to let his hands trail over Bucky, and Bucky felt his heart sing out as he nodded. “Gonna kiss you all over, precious. Every inch. ‘N then I’m gonna eat your pretty ass out ‘till you’re cryin’ with it, and then, when you’re good and ready, gonna slide right in, and it’s gonna be so good, Buck, I’ll make it so good for you. But I’m not going to claim you yet, _A Rún._ ” There were tears in Bucky’s eyes as he shook his head, licking his lips.  
“Wanna be yours,” he protested. “Want you to claim me, and… and I wanna give you beautiful pups someday, Stevie. Want everything you wanna give me. Please give me that.” And the way Steve was smiling down at him? There were no words for that.

“Of course, _A Thaisce._ God, Buck… So fuckin’ perfect. Such a good little boy for me. Just be patient, I’ll give you everything.” Bucky sighed and reached up to touch Steve’s face, a smile on his own.  
“Don't wanna fuck this up,” he admitted. Steve ghosted his lips over the corner of Bucky’s mouth, smiling when the other man’s mouth tipped open in anticipation.  
“Look at that. You know just what to do, Bucky. Just respond however you want and let me know if something’s bad. Especially if it hurts.” He rewarded Bucky’s patience with a soft kiss before trailing his lips down to press a kiss to the corner of his jaw, then down his neck to his scent glands, while his hands worked their way slowly up the omega’s abdomen, rucking his shirt up. “I’ve got you, baby, let go. Wanna see how pretty your face is when you’re not worried about nothin’. Please, precious, give me all your troubles. Lift a bit?” He asked, tugging Bucky’s shirt off when he complied. The omega’s expression was open and relaxed, waiting for instruction or praise. “There you go, sweetheart. You listen so good. I’ll take good care of you, I promise.” Looking down, and seeing Bucky’s torso bared, right arm full and strong and alive, left arm nothing but a stump- Bucky tried to twist and hide it, but Steve held his shoulders down and kissed him. “It’s part of you, baby. Just like every other part. I’m sorry you got hurt, precious, but it’s not something I’ll ever see as ugly. You’re mine, and I take care of what’s mine.” Bucky whimpered softly and reached up to touch Steve’s face.  
“Nobody ever… Not once, has anyone ever…” Steve brought his hands to the sides of Bucky’s face and brushed away two stray tears with his thumbs.

“You wanna know something?” He asked. Bucky nodded, closing his eyes. “The museums, they’re not lyin’ when they say I was a shrimpy kid, but they tend to leave out the gory details. Up until a few years ago, you woulda been able to pick me up, with or without two arms. I was tiny. Diabetes, anaemia, asthma, colourblindness, scoliosis, chronic pain, flat feet, double pneumonia every winter… I had scarlet fever when I was a kid… And those are just the ones I can name off the top of my head. I was a wreck, Buck, and I know what it feels like for people to look at you and see nothin’ but something to pity. I’ve got an insulin pump and an asthma inhaler in my pants pocket in case HYDRA or their accomplices figure out how to un-serum me, and I go in every two months to make sure the serum’s still keeping everything in check. So believe me when I say that an injury like yours, that you got while protecting people, doesn't repulse me. Bucky, you're a hero. Anyone who can't see that ain't worth your time.” Bucky blinked up at him, admittedly a little starry-eyed that Steve had called him a hero.  
“I… Thank you, Stevie,” he whispered. “You don't even know it but that was maybe the singular sexiest thing anyone's ever said to me.” Steve kissed him softly, then, and his eyes fluttered shut.  
“My big, strong Bucky,” Steve whispered, “if you asked me, I’d bring you the moon and stars.” Bucky reached up for Steve’s jaw, bringing him closer to kiss him again.  
“You’d be too far away,” he complained. “I’ll settle for a shitty apartment and a shitty job, as long as I get to come home every night to your pretty face.” Steve's eyes slid shut and he leaned down closer, pressing kisses down Bucky's chest.

*

Sam Wilson had kind eyes and the kind of smile that made you forget for a moment that he’d been through Hell. He was unfailingly loyal, and it was through him that Steve and Bucky had met. So it was only natural that he would tease the ever living Hell out of both of them now that they were finally together.  
“See? Man, I told you. Steve’s crazy about you,” his voice crackled through the phone to Bucky. “You better come visit the Tower, Stark and Romanov are pouting ‘cause I actually managed to set you two up. I wanna gloat.” Bucky grinned and took a drag off his smoke, his bad shoulder pinning the phone to his ear.    
“I’ll see if I can convince Steve to ever leave the house again. He’s holed up in my nest, hasn't gone back to his apartment in three days. It’s kind of adorable. We’re still not mated, though. I don't understand this whole ‘handfasting’... He said it's an old Irish thing. Keeps calling me Gaelic pet names, which is sweet, I guess. I dunno. Oh… And I quit my job,” he added, knowing Sam would be disappointed but understanding.  
“How come?” The beta asked, no judgement evident in his tone. Bucky shrugged before remembering that that wasn't actually audible.  
“Too many asshole customers. Besides, Steve keeps talkin’ about Brooklyn. Figure it might be time to go home.” Sam exhaled heavily on the other end.  
“You sure you’re ready for that?”  
“Guess I’ll find out.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now don't go expecting updates this often. But I somehow vomited up 4,000 words in two days without noticing? So here you go??  
> Labhraíonn tú Gaeilge? = Do you speak Irish?  
> labhairt mé beagán Gaeilge. Mo mháthair a úsáidtear chun chanadh liom mar theastaigh sí liom a mheabhrú mo oidhreacht. Bhí sí ó Chorcaigh. = I speak a little Irish. My mother used to sing to me because she wanted me to remember my heritage. She was from Cork.  
> Now, unlike the pet names, which I researched extensively, these translations are from Google Translate. So if any of you happen to speak Irish more fluently than me (I do speak a little, but not half as well as I'd like to), I would be forever indebted to you for correcting it.

Freddie Barnes was a practical kind of person. She had no choice, being raised with seven siblings and promptly starting a family that quickly grew to five children, herself, and her husband, George. She was a baker by trade- she’d been baking bread every morning since before she could remember, and, having missed the chance to go to college, opened a bakery in the late eighties to have something to do and to fall back on, should George’s entrepreneurial dreams amount to nothing. Since her children had left home- First, her Jamie, off to fight in the desert; then Becca, Alice, and Lillith, to college; and her poor sweet Winona had died in a car accident… And Jamie hadn't come home- she’d thrown herself into her work with both feet. She’d had to. So, when her phone rang one morning during rush hour, she very nearly ignored it. But she wrapped up her current customer’s purchase and answered on the last ring.  
“This is Winifred Barnes, what can I do for you?” There was a trembling breath before the voice on the other end responded.  
“...Ma?”

  
*  
*  *

  
It had taken a lot out of Bucky, calling his mother. It wasn't that he hadn't wanted to, all this time, it was just… Difficult. He let his shoulders unbunch in the hot bath water as Steve massaged shampoo through his hair.   
“Guessing it wasn't the happiest home?” Steve asked, bringing one hand up to shield Bucky’s eyes as the other brought the cup full of water up to rinse his hair. Bucky shook his head once the water had run out.  
“No, we were… I love them.” He could feel Steve’s uncertainty from where he knelt outside the tub.  
“But…?”  
“But,” Bucky sighed, “I was broken, after. My mom, she means well, but she’s got these ridiculous standards, and I knew I wouldn't live up to them anymore. Plus, she’s got four other kids, so I didn't think…” Steve kissed his forehead before starting to work the conditioner into Bucky’s long hair.  
“You didn't think you’d be missed?” He wondered. Bucky shook his head.  
“Lil and Winnie both presented omega, and Becca’s an alpha, so I thought… I thought they’d take care of her… But she said- she said Winnie’s-” he brought his knees up to rest his head against them.

Steve soothed him, rubbing his back gently.  
“Shh,” he whispered, “you’ll be okay. Trust me. I’ve got you, baby, I won’t let you fall.” Bucky shivered in his arms and turned toward Steve, knowing he was getting his shirt wet.  
“They thought I was _dead,_ Steve. And I let them. For _five years.”_ Steve smiled down at him sadly.  
“If there’s anyone who knows what that feels like, baby, you’re lookin’ at him. Peggy’s the only person left alive of all the people I knew when I was… young. What you’ve gotta do now is _go_ _home._ Let them see that you’re okay; and _believe me,_ your mother won’t be disappointed in you for what you did. You were a prisoner of war, Buck, you did what you had to do. Lord knows I’ve done worse. You’re so hard on yourself, sweetheart, but all I see is a beautiful, brave, _strong_ soul. I love you.” Bucky sighed and looked up as Steve rinsed his hair again.  
“But… What if I fuck up? Will they… Will _you_ still want me? I… I couldn't handle it if you didn't, Stevie. You’re so much to me. And they’re- I just-” Steve held him close and kissed his dripping-wet hair.  
“Do you want me to go home with you? I don't mean to toot my own horn, but having Captain America show up with their son would probably please any parents.”  
“Well… Yeah. I thought it was implied that I wanted you with me.” Steve shrugged.  
“Didn't want to assume nothin’,” he murmured. “When do we want to go?”

 

*

  
The train ride from DC to New York was unbearable in that it was _so goddamn boring_ . The train ride from Manhattan to Brooklyn, and then to Crown Heights, was unbearable in that there was _so much happening._ Steve was in his awful civvie disguise, which Bucky had tried to augment by switching out the ball cap for a beanie and the _Captain America_ t-shirt (seriously, Natasha?) for a cozy, cabled wool sweater. Freddie had, of course, invited them to thanksgiving dinner once she knew Bucky was alive; she still didn't know who Steve was, but that was okay- she’d find out in about five minutes. Bucky had his headphones in, but he was holding Steve’s hand firmly, so Steve counted it as a win. Bucky squeezed his hand and turned them around a corner, stopping in front of a hole-in-the-wall bakery. It was cramped-looking, and a little broken-down; but it was clean, and the lights were warm and comforting, and it smelled like bread and pie and a _home_ that Steve had abandoned in the forties _._ Bucky took a deep breath. 

“This is it,” he murmured, letting go of Steve’s hand to pull his earbuds out. He opened the door, stepped inside…

…And was immediately bombarded by about ten small Eastern European and Irish women. Steve hung back, or did his best to in the cramped space, wanting to let them have their reunion, but soon he was swept into the fray, his cheeks being pinched and his biceps prodded- even his _teeth_ were included in the inspection. He caught Bucky’s apologetic eye a few times and smiled at him, wanting him to know that actually, this was the closest thing to _normal_ he’d had in _years_ . When the onslaught had come to a close, Winnifred stepped forward from where she’d been sitting off to the side with Bucky and who Steve assumed was Bucky’s father, holding Bucky’s hand between both of her own. She stood in front of Steve, all five feet, three inches of her, and crossed her arms over her chest.   
“So,” she started, a thick Brooklyn accent touching the word, “You’re the one who wants to bond with my Jamie?” Steve stood at attention and nodded sharply- he knew immediately that this was a woman who’d beat the ever-loving shit out of him, serum or no.  
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, willing his hand to stay by his side and not salute her.  
“And he says you’ve already married him,” she continued, starting to circle Steve appraisingly. Steve swallowed nervously.  
“Yes, ma’am. I hope you’ll forgive me for that, ma’am.” It was silent a few seconds, until she reached his front again.  
“You’re not Jewish.”  
“No, ma'am, I’m not. Irish Roman Catholic. But I’ll never try to press it on James, or our children if he doesn't want me to.”  
  
“Can you cook?” She asked.  
“Ma'am?”  
“I asked if you could cook,” she reiterated.  
“Yes, ma’am, my ma taught me. Never had good ingredients growing up- I’m sure your parents or grandparents would remember the Great Depression.” She nodded. A few of the older women shuddered. “But I can make as good a soup as any man. Never quite had a mother’s touch, but it’ll do.”  
“So you _are_ the same Steven Rogers. You had quite the reputation around the neighbourhood when you were younger- Aunt Tillie remembers her mother telling stories about you-” one of the older Irish women nodded “-but never as a heartbreaker. Do you intend to break Jamie’s heart?” Steve felt his face fall.  
“I will never be unfaithful to James, ma’am, but in my line of work, I would worry I’d leave him a widow.” Here, he looked over to Bucky. “If that happened, I would leave him everything I had, which amounts to a lot of money and not much else, and I would encourage him to move forward with his life.” Freddie nodded approvingly and stood on her toes to pull Steve into a hug.  
“If you break his heart,” she whispered menacingly in his ear, “this time they won't find you alive.” Steve swallowed a lump in his throat and nodded. Freddie squeezed him once more, and let go with a pat on the back.

“I approve,” she announced, and a cheer went through the room. Bucky’s face lit up and he stood, nudging his way under Steve’s arm until Steve pulled him against his side.   
“So, this is my family,” he introduced nervously. Steve squeezed his shoulder and pressed a kiss to his hair.  
“Reminds me of home,” he admitted as everyone started squeezing out the door and around the side of the building to go upstairs to their apartments. “Bit less… I’m gonna guess Polish, hit me if I’m wrong.” Bucky didn't hit him and he breathed a sigh of relief. “Was worried for a second. Ukrainians tend to get a bit defensive if you guess their heritage wrong. Yeah, but, even though Ma and I were the only ones that came over, all the ladies in our building adopted us. Never a dull moment, never an empty plate.” And _oh shit,_ had he let that slip?  
“Steven Grant Rogers,” Bucky admonished, “Were you _born_ in _Ireland?”_ Steve ducked his head as they trundled up the stairs, but knew his burning ears would give him away. “You _were,_ oh my _God_. _Captain America_ was born in Ireland.”  
“I was also an illegal immigrant in Canada for nearly seventy years,” he reminded Bucky, “don't forget that. And I was born on the boat. Neutral waters. I’m American.” Bucky nearly laughed himself sick.  
“Don’t worry, baby, I won’t tell nobody,” he assured Steve as they reached the top of the stairs. There were impossibly more people up here, most around Bucky’s age, some so young they could be their children.  
  
A young woman with shiny brown hair was stirring a pot of what looked like cranberry sauce, and Steve noticed Bucky’s attention settle on her. He held a finger to his lips, letting everyone see it before creeping up behind her and cupping his hand over her eyes. She sighed and tapped the spoon against the side of the pot, setting it down before reaching up to pry Bucky’s fingers off her face.  
“Lil, I told you, it’s not the sa--” but she fell short when she saw who it was behind her. “...Bucky?” She asked tentatively. “Is- is it really you?” He nodded, grimacing.  
“I’m so sorry, Becks,” he murmured. “I’m home now.” She slapped him, hard, and Steve growled involuntarily. She stuck her tongue out at him and wrapped Bucky in her arms.  
“We- we thought you were _dead,”_ she sobbed against his neck. “I named my _kid_ after you, you asshole! Now we’re gonna have bad luck ‘cause there’s two Jameses at the same time!” He rubbed her back and led her over to the table to sit while an aunt took over at the stove.  
“I know. I know, Becks, I’ve been gone too long. I missed you too, Becca, I’m sorry.”

Steve let himself be ushered into the living room, both to give the siblings their space, and to meet all the kids. “What’s your name?” He asked one with sparse brown hair and brown eyes, who happened to be coloring. The child in question stuck his dimpled chin out, thumbs in his overall straps, and declared,   
“Jams.” Steve raised his eyebrows.  
“James?” The kid nodded. “Well, James, my name’s Steve. Can I sit with you? I like your colors.” James thought about it for a moment before nodding and saying,  
“Yeah. Ga’a draw a supa’hero! Ga’a draw Ca’tin ‘Merica!” Steve smiled softly and sat precariously on the toddler-sized seat opposite James.  
“What about Falcon or Black Widow?” He asked. “I think they’re way cooler superheroes than Captain America.” The toddler shook his head and closed his chubby fist around a thick blue crayon.  
“Ca’tin ‘Merica! Ca’tin ‘Merica saved bubbe’s mama from bad people!” Steve looked up and around for confirmation, and found it in Freddie’s eyes.  
“You freed my parents from Auschwitz. I would never have been born if it wasn't for you and your team,” she told him. “I’d thank you, but I’m sure Jamie already has.” Steve shook his head. 

“Never came up. And please don't thank me, we were just doing what any decent people would, orders be damned. Lot of people we didn't get to in time. Too many.” He turned back to the picture of Sam and Natasha he was drawing for James. Now wasn't the time to dwell too heavily on the past. He signed the corner with a doodle of a monkey holding the shield. “Here,” he encouraged, passing James his drawing, “I’ll trade you.” James nodded happily and handed over his paper. He wasn't at the age yet when he’d started drawing figures- this was just a page of red, white, and blue scribbles- but it was endearing. Steve smiled wide and held his hand up for a high five. “Good job, buddy! Man, you’re good! You ever been to the big art museum in Manhattan?” James shook his head. “Oh, well, maybe you’re a bit young right now. But when your older, make sure you tell me when you get your drawings in there. I’ll be cheerin’ for you, buddy.” James laughed, and it was the best sound Steve had heard in years.  
“You’re really good with him,” Becca noted from the doorway. “Though if you’re with Bucky, I guess you’d have to be used to dealing with children.” Bucky made an indignant noise as he passed her and went to sit with his namesake and Steve.  
“Been home _five minutes_ , and she’s down my throat. Can you believe this, Stevie?” Steve levelled him with a look.  
“I work with Natasha Romanoff,” he reminded him. Bucky shuddered.  
“They can never meet.”  
“Agreed.”

  
*

  
Dinner was your fairly standard Thanksgiving turkey dinner- at the beginning, each person at the table said what they were thankful for (the most memorable being James’s “Supa’heroes!”, the most standard being Bucky’s “I’m thankful for just being here,”) until finally the attention settled on Steve. “I, uh… I never thought I’d see another family like this again,” he admitted. “Everyone’s so closed off from each other these days… I’m thankful for the chance to meet all of you.” Bucky squeezed his hand under the table before dropping it and picking up his fork.  
“Oh…” He trailed off when he realized he couldn't cut anything- it had been a while since he'd eaten anything that required it. “Steve, could you- sorry, I can't cut anything.” It was the first verbal acknowledgement of his amputation all evening. The room collectively exhaled a breath they hadn't been consciously holding, and relaxed a little more as Steve switched plates with Bucky where he’d already cut his own turkey and potatoes. Becca cleared her throat.  
“Did it hurt?” She asked quietly.  
“Yeah,” Bucky confirmed. “Hurt worse than anything else I’ve ever felt.” And after that, the topic was left alone, and new conversations sprung up like bad leaks. Steve wound up speaking mostly with Bucky’s father, having been seated to his left.  
“Labhraíonn tú Gaeilge?” The older man asked, catching Steve off guard.  
“Uh- labhairt mé beagán Gaeilge. Mo mháthair a úsáidtear chun chanadh liom mar theastaigh sí liom a mheabhrú mo oidhreacht. Bhí sí ó Chorcaigh.**” George nodded.  
“She was right, it is important to know your heritage. I tried to teach Bucky, but I think all he absorbed were the lullabies. Isn't that right, Buck?” The omega flashed a smile at his father.  
“You know me, dad,” he laughed, clearly uncomfortable. Steve frowned, but, not knowing how to help with dad stuff, left it alone.

 

*  
*   *

  
Freddie tried to keep them for the night, but in the face of not enough beds, they left for avengers tower with enough leftovers that even with Steve’s metabolism, they’d be well-fed for a week.   
“I didn't know your dad spoke Irish,” Steve admitted to Bucky as they walked toward the subway. Bucky jostled him with his hip.  
“I speak a bit too, but like he said it's almost all lullabies and pet names." Steve blushed and chuckled, head ducked in embarrassment. "You blushing, _M’anamchara?”_   Bucky teased. Steve stopped dead and lifted his gaze to Bucky.  
“What did you just call me?” He asked. Bucky turned back around to face him and touched his cheek gently.  
_“M’anamchara,”_ he whispered. “It means ‘my soulmate’.” Steve leaned into the touch and nodded.  
“I know, just- you’d call me that?” Bucky nodded and leaned up to kiss Steve softly.   
“Of course I would. I want to spend the rest of my _life_ with you, Stevie. Seeing you back there just confirmed it. You’re _everything_ I look for in a partner. And hey, don't get that face. I mean in here,” he specified, tapping Steve’s chest over his heart. “Only thing I care about is that you’re happy and healthy and safe. I honestly couldn’t care less about how physically strong you are. You could get the serum sucked out of you this instant and I’d still be right here. I love you, Steve.” Steve felt a prick in his side before his knees started to go weak- but then it didn't end there. His back suddenly slouched and he felt his spine bending back to how it was before the serum, and he could _feel_ his muscles atrophy. “S-Steve?” Bucky asked, horror evident in his tone. “What’s-? Oh my God!” And he ran, leaving Steve in a shrinking, crumpled heap on the sidewalk.

  
*

  
Steve was doing his very best not to cry. He’d- He’d had _everything he ever wanted._ He was _strong,_ and _loved,_ and Bucky had _just finished saying he wouldn't leave him-_ Steve curled with his back to a telephone pole and cried. He cried so hard, in fact, that he had to reach into his pants pocket for his inhaler. Which reminded him to check his blood sugar. Which made him cry harder. So it startled him, when a familiar hand stroked through his hair and drew him close.   
“I know, baby,” Bucky was murmuring, “I’m so sorry. I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’ve got you. You’re okay. I love you. I love you so much, Stevie.” Steve nudged his way under Bucky’s chin and sobbed.  
“You _just_ finished saying- and then- and you-!” Bucky soothed him with a kiss on his forehead.  
“I know, baby, but then somebody behind you took off running and I had to catch him. You would've too, wouldn't you? I had to see if it was him that hurt you. Which, judging by _this-”_ he pulled out an almost-empty syringe, whose contents glowed orange- “and the fact that he crunched one of his teeth and died, I’d say he did. C’mon, you ready to stand up? Gotta get you to Stark and Banner.”  
  
Steve grit his teeth and let Bucky pull him up. Everything hurt. He must have grimaced audibly, because Bucky slipped his shoulders under Steve’s arm. He said something, but Steve didn't quite catch it, because Bucky was to his left.  
“Buck, I can’t hear on that side. Gonna have to either switch or not talk.” Bucky slipped out from under Steve and went to his other side.  
“I said, ‘let’s get you checked out so we can go home and I can hold you’. That sound okay?” Steve scowled.  
“M’still the big spoon, here, Barnes, don't you go forgettin’ it.” Bucky’s expression went oddly soft.  
“Of course you are. And stubborn as a rock, too,” he teased, but there was too much affection in his tone for Steve to take him seriously. They stepped through the turnstile and down the escalator separately before Bucky ducked below Steve’s arm again. “I’ve got you, _A Thaisce_ ,” he whispered. “You’re safe.” Steve felt his cheeks flush, but said nothing until they made it to the lobby at the Tower.

 _“Captain Rogers, should I alert Mr. Stark of your condition?”_ FRIDAY asked.   
“Yeah,” Steve assented. “Tell ‘im Bucky’s got the stuff that did it, too. Got it off the guy.”  
_“Of course, sir. If you would, the elevator directly in front of you will take you to the med bay. Sgt. Barnes is more than welcome to join you.”_ Steve nodded, and they stepped into the elevator.  
“Thanks, FRIDAY.”  
“Of course, sir. Shall I have a guest room prepared in your suite, or is there any need?”  
“No need, FRIDAY.”  
_"Very good.”_ Silence fell as the elevator started its ascent.  
“You doin’ okay, Buck?” Steve asked after a few seconds. “Just- I know I told you before, and all, but seein’ it's different.” He looked down at his feet. “No hard feeling if you don't want me like this. Nothin’ I haven't heard before.” Bucky stepped out from under his arm to face him, and slapped him.  
  
“I’m not some shallow _ditz,_ Steve. You’re worth _ten_ of whoever told you that. More than ten. Steve, you mean the _world_ to me and I-” the doors slid open and they were swept into the med bay by personnel and Stark. Banner sat waiting for them on an office chair in the single room. He took his glasses off.  
“Hi, Steve,” he greeted.  
“Hey, Bruce,” Steve managed. Bucky handed Bruce the syringe for chemical analysis.  
“FRIDAY?” The doctor asked as he emptied the syringe into a test tube.  
_“The formula is most likely to be the chemical opposite of the serum developed by Doctor Erskine,”_ the AI replied. _“It is highly radioactive and contains trace amounts of Captain Rogers’ blood, likely obtained upon injection.”_ Stark wandered in with a clipboard after having talked to security.  
“So what you’re saying is, if we reverse-engineered this…” he trailed off.  
“...you would end up with the super soldier serum, yes.” Stark clapped his hands.  
“So what are we waiting for?” He asked. “FRIDAY, Chemical analysis.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So funny story, I thought that I had posted this almost a week ago but looks like I didn't.   
> If you're re-reading, you'll notice that I made some changes in chapter two regarding Bucky's fluency in Irish- Now he really does only remember lullabies (and a few romantic pet names including the ones Steve's been calling him and M'anamchara). It just didn't seem pertinent, nor likely, that they both spoke the same, fairly obscure, language.  
> -Ghostbarnes  
> WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: Body dysphoria (not gender-related) that is discussed and accepted, but not resolved. Bucky may be... well, /Bucky/, but he's not a miracle worker.

Steve had what seemed to be a permanent scowl etched across his features as he and Bucky set off for their floor.   
“Stevie, I’m sorry about what happened, but they’re trying to fix it,” Bucky tried to comfort him. “It’ll be okay. From what I can tell, those two won’t give up on this till they’ve seen it through.” Steve shook his head and leaned on Bucky’s shoulder.   
“It’s not that,” he murmured softly.   
“Well, then, what is it?” Bucky prodded as the elevator stopped.   
“We’re assuming it’s HYDRA, right?” Steve asked, and a chill went down Bucky’s spine from his time spent with them. He nodded. “So if they could figure out the  _ opposite  _ of the Serum, what must they have figured out first? They've had seventy years, it honestly wouldn't surprise me if they’d- Bucky? What’s wrong, baby?” Bucky had gone completely still, frozen in the middle of their living room.   
“ _ That’s _ what they…” Steve walked back over and tilted Bucky’s chin down to look at him.   
“Baby, look at me,” he murmured. “Where are you right now, Buck? Is there sand?” Bucky shook his head.   
“I'm fine, I’m in avengers tower, just- I just realized what they did to me.” He looked Steve in the eye. “I have to go back to the med bay. You get curled up and wait for me, okay, honey? Put on a movie or something, and get the leftovers into the fridge. I’ll be back soon.” And he was gone, sparing Steve a kiss on his way out.

*

“Mr. Stark, I need you to run an analysis of my blood,” Bucky demanded as he strode into the med bay where Tony and Bruce were trying to work out what exactly they needed.   
“Well, can it wait? Kinda busy here tryin’ to save your boyfriend’s life,” Stark replied, not looking up.   
“Steve had a thought. If HYDRA’s figured out the opposite of the serum, they must've-”  
“Figured out the serum first, we know, but we’re just trying to focus on one thing at once so if you wouldn’t mind...” Bruce trailed off, hoping Bucky would take the hint. He didn't.   
“No, but don't you get it? They would've needed test subjects! And who better to test something potentially deadly on than your enemies?” Bucky asked. Tony frowned.   
“Nobody, if you’re HYDRA. What are you getting at, kid?”   
“I was a prisoner of war for three months. With HYDRA. They experimented on me, I just didn't know what they were trying to do ‘till just now- But it makes sense, I mean- my arm, they cut it off cause it got broken real bad and infected, but the stump only took two weeks to heal, and- Please. Just check. It might speed you along.” Tony puffed his cheeks out as he exhaled, before gesturing for Bruce to take a blood sample, since he was actually qualified to do so. Bucky rolled his sleeve up with his teeth.

“You realize that if this comes back positive, just about  _ everything  _ is gonna change for you and Steve, right? And we’re gonna need quite a bit of blood to pin down exactly what we’re looking for,” Bruce warned him, his neutral, beta scent calming against Tony's acrid post-menopause. Bucky nodded solemnly as he sat down, looking away as Bruce wrapped the elastic around his arm and slid the needle in. Last thing Bucky needed right now was a flashback.   
“All done now, James,” Bruce murmured, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder.   
_ “Sir,”  _ FRIDAY started,  _ “Sgt. Barnes is most definitely enhanced, but I cannot ascertain whether the serum is the same as Captain Rogers’. Should I run these tests against the Captain’s?”   
_ “If you would. Buckaroo, thanks. You can go be gross with your boyfriend now.” Bucky made a face.   
_ “Husband.  _ We’re  __ married,”  he reminded Tony as he left. 

*

Back downstairs, Steve had actually followed instructions for once in his life, and had even made tea while he waited for Bucky to get back. He was curled up on the couch, wrapped in a wool blanket he’d have to remember to thank Pepper for later.   
“Hey,” Bucky greeted softly as he came around the corner from the elevator. He leaned against the back of the couch and rested his chin on Steve’s shoulder. “What’cha watchin’, Stevie?” He asked. Steve shrugged.   
“I dunno, it was just on.” Bucky nodded and stole Steve’s mug, thinking it was full of coffee. He took a sip, then immediately spat it back into the mug. “Oh, c’mon, Buck, that’s gross!” Steve complained. Bucky raised an eyebrow and stood up.   
“I’m gonna go have a bath,” he decided. “Should I wash my own hair or should I wait for you?” 

There was a beat of silence before Steve leaned backward to look up at him.   
“You want me to?” He asked. Bucky shrugged.   
“You don’t _have_ to. I’m perfectly capable. But I’d be lying if I said it wouldn't be nice,” he deflected. He took hold of one of Steve’s hands and looked it over, kissing each knuckle. “Got nice strong hands, Stevie,” he murmured. “Good hands for making things. And perfect for rubbing my scalp, now c’ _mon.”_ The corner of Steve’s mouth turned up and he got up, bones creaking so loud Bucky could hear them.   
“Fine, but you gotta rub my back later,” Steve yielded. Bucky grinned and pulled him in the direction he assumed the bathroom would be. “Third door on the left,” Steve directed as it became clear Bucky didn't know where the fuck he was going. “Got a nice big tub, too, big enough for both of us if you want.” Bucky let go of Steve’s wrist, opened the door, and flipped the light switch, revealing a bathroom that _had_ to be bigger than the apartment either of them grew up in. Steve was right- there was a spacious jacuzzi that looked long enough for Bucky to stretch out his legs in, even with Steve behind him. 

Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky’s waist, standing on tiptoes to rest his chin on his shoulder. “So? Think I could join you in there?”   
“Meh, I’ve seen bigger,” Bucky lied. Steve laughed, kissing his neck, and it was the best sound Bucky had heard in what felt like forever. Steve unwrapped his arms from around Bucky, pushing his overlong sleeves up in order to fiddle with the taps.   
“This hot enough?” He asked, encouraging Bucky to check the temperature. Bucky checked it and shrugged.   
“I dunno, maybe if you took off your shirt,” he half-teased. Steve didn’t laugh.   
“Buck…” He trailed off, seemingly having a staring contest with the floor. “…please don't make jokes about it. You don't have to try and make me feel better, I know how unattractive I must be, even to you.” Bucky’s brow furrowed and he reached up to touch Steve’s chin, his fingers still damp from the water. 

“Hey. Look at me,” he commanded gently. Steve complied, eyes wide and full of shame. “Remember when you first saw my arm, and I tried to hide it from you? You remember what you said to me then?” Steve rolled his eyes and turned away, clearly blinking back tears.   
“Hardly the same thing, Buck,” he argued. “I didn't get like this protecting anyone, it was as good as an assassination attempt.” Bucky ducked into his line of sight and levelled him with a Look.   
“And why do you think they did that? How many people have you saved, Steve? With _these_ hands?” Here, he placed his hand over both of Steve’s where they were worrying at the hem of his sweater. “Steve, I would never have even been _born_ if it wasn't for you. You saved my-”   
“-I know,” Steve cut him off, “Your mother told me. But Buck, that wasn't _this_ body, that was… It was different.” Bucky kissed his forehead and wrapped his arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. 

“I doesn't matter what you did or didn't do, you’re still worthy of love. And besides, you think I could hold a rifle now?” He asked. “You think I could swim, or fight, or maybe, I dunno, have some half-decent handwriting? I used to be left-handed,” he told Steve. “I used to have  _ beautiful _ handwriting, and I used to draw- you think I can do any of that now? But you still think I’m beautiful, even with this shitty lump of flesh hanging off me, so why should it be any different for you when you’re  _ whole,  _ and relatively healthy? Steve, I can't do a damn thing about how you see yourself. But I can damn well be sure you know that you are  _ every bit  _ as attractive to me like this as you were- and will be- all buff. I love you because of who you  _ are _ , not how tall you are or how much you can lift. Okay?” Steve nodded, carefully keeping eye contact. “Come on, we should get in. I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” Bucky promised as he shucked his clothes. He climbed in, averting his eyes as Steve stripped and climbed in behind him, immediately leaning his forehead against Bucky’s back, between his shoulder blades.

“I’m sorry,” Steve mumbled, “I shouldn't have assumed you’d… It’s just that I’m not exactly used to people seein’ a  _ person _ when they look at me. Like this or big, doesn't matter. Like this, all they see is something to be stepped on or pitied, and big, like I’m the paragon of American values, and I’m  _ not.  _ You’re only the fourth person ever, apart from my mom, who  _ saw  _ me. First was Erskine.” Bucky leaned back slowly until his back was pressed against Steve’s front and Steve was resting his chin on Bucky’s shoulder.   
“Who were the other two?” Bucky asked, slightly jealous but not unkind.   
“Peggy Carter, and… Surprisingly? Thor. I guess that goes both ways. Most people expect him to be a total meathead, but he's not. He tries real hard to get along whenever he’s here, and I respect that.” Bucky nodded.   
“You are. A total meathead, I mean. But don’t worry, it’s part of your charm. Makes the mothering instincts kick in.” And Steve  _ did _ laugh at that, so Bucky turned, eyes closed, and kissed him softly. “I love you,” he whispered. He felt Steve smile. 

“Open your eyes,” Steve allowed. “You’re right, just because  _ I _ hate my body like this, it doesn't mean  _ you _ will.”  Bucky obeyed, keeping his eyes on Steve’s face while his hand cupped his neck, thumb checking his pulse. Steve smiled. “Shouldn't check it with your thumb. Use your first two fingers, like this,” he demonstrated, closing his eyes while he felt out Bucky’s pulse. “Your thumb has a big enough vein in it that you might feel that and mistake it for the pulse you’re checking.” Bucky adjusted the position of his hand and kissed Steve again, feeling his pulse flutter beneath his fingertips. Steve sighed into the kiss. “Don't worry if it’s irregular,” he assured Bucky. “Supposed to be. I have arrhythmia. Never bad enough to cause much trouble till my lungs acted up first, so don't worry.” Bucky nodded.   
“No freak outs, I promise,” he mumbled into Steve’s mouth as he leaned in for another kiss. “I love you, Stevie,” he reiterated. Steve’s right hand came up to tangle in Bucky’s hair and cup his jaw.   
“I love you too, baby,” he replied, deepening the kiss and encouraging Bucky to lean back against the side of the tub, caging him in. 

“Gonna take real good care of you,” he promised against the omega’s lips. “Just relax, Buck. I’ve got you. That’s right, baby. That’s it.” He used his grip in Bucky’s hair to tip his head back, exposing the length of his throat. Bucky moaned softly, and Steve pressed another sweet kiss to his mouth before trailing down and latching on to his jugular, sucking an impressive bruise there. Bucky shuddered and melted into his arms. “Good boy,” Steve praised, “such a good, sweet boy for me. You’d be ready, wouldn't you, any time I decided it was time to claim you…” He trailed his teeth over the hickey and Bucky flat-out  _ whined.  _ “Shh,” Steve soothed, “it’ll be alright. I’ll take good care of you,  _ A Thaisce.  _ Just be patient. I’ve got you.”   
“A- Ah… Steve, I want…  _ Please…” _ Bucky begged, wanting to tilt his head back down to kiss Steve, but knowing Steve would be proud of him if he didn't. Luckily, he didn't have long to wait.   
“Look at me, darling,” Steve ordered, his voice little more than a whisper. Bucky obeyed soundlessly and bit his lip. Steve tugged it out from between his teeth with a stern look that went straight to Bucky’s dick. He let out a pathetic sound. 

“Please, Stevie?” He whined, watching Steve’s grin becoming more feral the more he begged him. “Want to feel your teeth in my throat,  _ M’anamchara. _ Wanna feel what you feel.  _ Please.  _ Don't ever wanna leave your side again, please don't make me-” he was cut off by Steve’s hand in the middle of his chest, just feeling, as Steve’s expression changed entirely, going gentle, but blank. Steve sat there, just feeling his lungs expand and his heart beat. There was silence for a good few minutes and Bucky’s heart kept racing faster and faster, until-  
“You really  _ mean _ it.” Steve sounded soft, and broken. “I- I don't  _ understand,  _ why would you  _ mean  _ it? What makes you think I’m good enough?” He asked, distraught. Bucky’s eyes gentled and he cautiously cupped Steve’s cheek.   
“Oh, Stevie,” he lamented, “What makes you think you’re  _ not?” _ The tears that had been hanging in Steve’s eyes spilled and Bucky brushed them away, never taking his eyes off him. “I’ve got you,” he promised. “I’ll keep you safe. We’ll look out for each other, right? You an’ me, ‘till the end of the line. I’ve got you, sunshine. I’ve got you. You’re gonna be okay. I’ll keep you safe, my love.”

Eventually, when the water was starting to go cold, Steve settled down and fulfilled his promise to wash Bucky’s hair, taking his good, sweet time, and combing out all the knots with his fingers. Bucky nuzzled back against his touch and sighed happily when Steve leaned down to kiss him. After rinsing Bucky’s hair of conditioner, Steve leaned back against the tub and pulled Bucky up to lie against his chest. Bucky sighed happily and shifted until he could listen to Steve’s breath and heartbeat.   
“You’d be happy, wouldn't you?” Steve asked cautiously, still gently combing his fingers through Bucky’s hair. “I mean, I know you would anyway with the hormones, but… The way you are right now, would you be happy, mated to me?” Bucky laced his fingers with Steve’s and looked up at him.   
“I could be happy like this forever. I’d be happy even if we’d just been neighbours forever. _Happy_ isn't the right word for how I’d be if we were mated, Steve. You’re everything to me.” Steve smiled and cupped Bucky’s face with his free hand.   
“Your next heat,” he murmured. “Or my rut. Whichever comes first.” Bucky grinned, kissed under his jaw, and pulled him up to sitting.   
“C’mon, we should get out. I’ll give you that backrub.” 


End file.
